Together Through it All
by Larxel12
Summary: Victorian England setting, in the fictional steampunk age. Feliks is a normal shop owner looking for a flatmate. Toris thinks he can fill the position. AU, LietPol, EstUkr, hints of LietBel. M for language and possible lemon


When the steam punk craze took over England, it slowly made its way across Europe, finally ending its journey in America. As soon as it hit his hometown of London, Feliks wanted nothing more than to join the air force because he wanted to be up in the air, working on the machines that were keeping him and the airship aloft.

His cousin, Elizaveta, advised him not to and told him that since he had a talent for machines, he should open up a shop. His two-floor house was pretty big for London's standards, so he had plenty of room for an under-the-home shop. Feliks had the money too. His parents had taken out high-dollar insurance policies, and he wasn't one for spending a lot of money on himself or relatives, so the money just sat in his bank, waiting to be used.

Two months after the suggestion, Feliks had the permits and materials to start his shop. He didn't make anything; he just fixed and tuned up items that customers would bring in for a reasonable price. Customers came in with their item, tell him the problem, and stayed and waited for him to finish, or they left to do some shopping and came back later to pick up whatever they dropped off.

Feliks rather enjoyed it when his customers stayed, as he could have a conversation instead of just listening to the radio. He envied Elizaveta, who, because of her practices, had her two husbands, Gilbert and Roderich, a child by each of them and twins on the way. He felt a little lonely and looked forward to having customers or when Elizaveta and her children came over. So, after two months of this, Feliks put out an ad for a flatmate. The ad was answered a week later when Feliks was repairing a radio.

The radio lay in pieces on the counter in front of him, the wooden face a safe distance away from the inner mechanics. His glasses were pushed up on top of his head, and there were oil streaks on his cheeks. He was about to go wash off when the bell clattered, signaling that someone came inside.

Feliks stopped walking and turned to greet the other man. "Hello and welcome to James Street Mechanics. I'm Feliks, owner and sole employee. Excuse the mess, would you? Just take a seat and I'll be with you in a moment. Is that okay?"

"O-Oh sure…" The man replied, folding and unfolding a newspaper clipping. He seemed a bit nervous to Feliks, which entertained him a little.

"Make yourself at home." He said before walking to the nearby bathroom. "Just try not to touch anything. Some of that is customer property."

"I won't." The man said, looking around in awe. "This is a nice shop you have here."

Feliks chuckled as he scrubbed his arms. "It is, but things tend to get out of hand." He said before doing the same to his face.

"Really? The children across the street don't help out?"

Feliks dried himself offand walked back out into the shop. "Elizaveta's children? Nah, Roderich won't let them near anything metal. But she does let them help out when he's not there to say no."

"Is he the white-haired man I saw in the window?"

"No, that's Gilbert, her other husband. My cousin's… beliefs are a little stranger than normal. Plus, they were best friends when they were all younger, and when it came time to marry, she couldn't decide. So, they went to Sweden, because God knows England wouldn't let them, got married, and came back here." He replied, going behind the counter. "So, what can I do for you, Mister…"

The man seemed stunned for a moment, but he recovered when Feliks asked his question. "Laurinaitis. Ah, Toris Laurinaitis, that is."

"Such an exotic name. Parents from anywhere particular? You've got an accent I can't quite place."

Toris smiled a bit, warming up to Feliks some.

"I was born in a small town outside of Vilnius, Lithuania. Parents brought me here when I was about ten years old, and I've been living here ever since. They took a boat back to Lithuania when I started college, but they never made it there."

"Oh… I'm so sorry.." Feliks replied. "Lithuania, huh? Right next to Poland. My last name is Łukasiewicz, born and raised in Łodź til I was five, moved here, grew up, and then my parents had accidents in the factories where they worked. But, they left me pretty well off in the end." He sighed.

"Anyway, back to my original question. What can I do for you? Got anything that needs fixed?"

"Uh… Well no." Toris replied. "I'm here because this ad says you're looking for a flatmate."

"And you're going to try to fill the spot, huh?"

Toris nodded. "My adopted brothers, Eduard and Raivis, work for the military. They get military housing, but I can't stay there because I don't work for the military. I don't have a job and renting an apartment is more expensive than paying for a dorm every semester."

"All right then." Feliks said with a smile. "If you think you can do it, there are only a few rules you need to follow. One, if you make a mess, clean it up. Two, if you feel like cleaning, please don't touch the workshop and this room."

"That's it? It shouldn't be too hard."

Feliks shrugged. "But, there are other things that you'll have to get used to. Breakfast starts at seven-thirty in the morning. I open shop at nine, and usually close at nine p.m. I'm closed on Saturdays to try and catch up with work, and also on Sundays for religious observance. Sometimes I end up staying awake until early in the morning, so it would be nice if there would be hot coffee with breakfast. And finally, I might ask you to help around the shop a bit, if you don't mind. Hell, we can call anything you do for me your rent."

"That sounds okay to me," he replied. "I keep odd hours as a university student anyway."

Feliks smiled. "The guest room upstairs is yours. Feel free to change anything you want, I'll pay for it. One more thing." He leaned on the counter. "I'm a loose Catholic, butI do attend church.

But I won't make you do anything with me if you don't want to. I only ask that you respect the views I have."

"Fine. I actually was raised Catholic, but I've gotten out of practice over the years, especially after my parents died."

"I see… Well, anyway, you got anything that you need to get?"

"There's some things in my dorm that I need to grab, but the paperwork to actually return to the dorm at the university takes a while to finish."

"Take your time. Just don't scare off my customers."

"I'll try not to." He said, chuckling. "Is there anything you need help with?"

Feliks thought a moment. "Think you can polish some metal for me?"

"Sure, but I have to go back to my dorm by ten or the Resident Advisor considers me gone forever and it gets cleaned out."

"It's only one in the afternoon, so you've got some time." Feliks said, stepping out from behind the counter. "There are some gloves and an apron in the back room. I might have some clothes that will fit you if you spill any polish on the ones you're wearing now." He went to the work room and sighed. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Ah…" The question took Toris by surprise. "Nineteen. I'll be twenty in February."

"How cute. I turn twenty in November. On the eleventh, to be exact.

You're free to get a gift for me, if you want."

"Maybe I will."

"I might just start paying you if you decide to get something." Feliks replied. He pulled three boxes out from under the workbench and placed them on top of it. "All three of these items are fixed, and just need to be polished. The owners aren't in a rush, so you can take your time on them."

Toris followed him to the back room, looked around a bit, and spotted the apron on a corner of the workbench. "Do you have some ribbon so I can pull my hair back?"

Feliks tapped his chin. "I think I might have some upstairs. If you're going to be so picky about it, don't start polishing yet. It's hard to get the stuff off of your skin, not to mention hair."

"I'm not being picky, just cautious."

"Call it what you will," Feliks replied, walking out of the room. He came back a few minutes later, a length of green ribbon in his hand. "If the room gets warm or there's too much of a smell, open the windows." He handed Toris the ribbon. "Just don't open the door unless I open it because there's no one in the shop. If you feel lightheaded, close the polish, clean yourself up, and go sit outside for a bit."

"And how do you know all this?" Toris asked, putting his hair up.

"Experience. Since Elizaveta doesn't work, she spends plenty of time here. I was in this room, the door was open, but I ended up fainting after a while. She was, and still is, pretty heavily pregnant, so she called for a neighbor to help. When I woke up, he told me that he'd worked with metals when he was younger, and he gave me some advice on how to work better."

Toris chuckled and pulled on the gloves nearby. "I'll keep that in mind."

"I'll come get you for lunch. You can meet Elizaveta and her two darling children, if they haven't run off to play by the time you come out. She makes wonderful food, and usually cooks for me since I'm either busy or too tired to cook."

"I'm sure she's as good as a cook as you praise her for."

Feliks laughed and walked out, closing the door behind him. Changing his mind, he left it cracked a bit. "Let me know if you need anything!" he called out, going behind the counter to reassemble the radio.


End file.
